Mia cracked her neck and rubbed her temples. She sipped gingerly on a sports drink hoping that the electrolytes would be a miraculous cure for her hangover. She couldn’t remember ever having one this bad. The headache that had been ceaselessly pounding at her temples since the alarm went off this morning had amplified as the day wore on. At least she’d stopped vomiting. At times like this, you had to be thankful for small mercies. Going shot for shot with John’s English backpacker buddies until 3am this morning, when she had to get up again at 6am to get to work, was not the best decision she had ever made. Not to mention the joints that had been liberally making their way around the room. Since when did she even smoke?
“Mia?”
Felicia poked her head around the corner of the break room, trying to hide the shock of seeing Mia’s blotchy pale skin and the huge bags under her eyes. Mia always looked so… healthful. She was the one with the glowing complexion and boundless energy that everyone always envied. But now? The change had been gradual, over the last month or so, and Felicia wasn’t the only one who had noticed. Mia looked worn out all the time. For weeks now she had been consistently late for work, and when she was here she seemed like she was somewhere else. On more than once occasion she had smelt like stale booze. Her behaviour was erratic, at best, and it had got so bad that several clients had complained. Felicia had spoken to Mia about all of this and Mia had seemed genuinely apologetic and embarrassed; like she hadn’t known how bad she was. Obviously it had fallen on deaf ears though.
“Everything all right?”
Mia nodded. She just needed to get through the rest of the shift, get home and sleep. She did not need a concerned pep talk from the owner of the studio who wanted to get all in touch with her emotions and shit. She smiled – grimaced really – and nodded her head.
“Mia…” Felicia took a deep breath – were those cigarettes she could smell? – She closed the door behind her. “I thought that we talked about this.”
“I’m fine,” Mia said as calmly as she could. Why wouldn’t this woman just leave her alone?
“I’m sure you are,” Felicia said, her patience starting to wear thin. “But at this point its more the reputation of the studio that I’m concerned about.”
Mia rolled her eyes.
“Did you just roll your eyes at me?”
“No,” Mia said sheepishly. Oops.
“Mia, we’ve tried to be supportive to whatever it is you’ve got going on, but it’s apparent that you don’t want any help.”
“There’s nothing going on.”
“So you keep saying. But the fact remains that you need to pull your socks up or I’m going to have no choice but to let you go.”
The words were like a slap in the face. They were going to fire her? “No, please, you can’t do that!”
Felicia sighed. “I don’t want to. You’re one of the best Pilates instructors I’ve got but…”
“I’ll be better,” Mia pleaded. “I’ll be on time and I won’t be… tired all the time.”
Felicia nodded and turned to leave the room. “Oh and Mia? You’re 2 o’clock is here.”
***
Mia closed the door behind her and leaned against it, relieved to finally be home. What a day! She walked to the kitchen, dumping her bag unceremoniously on the bench, and opened the fridge. She automatically reached for a half full bottle of white wine and was just about to pour a glass when she stopped.
No.
Today had been a wake up call.
She begrudgingly put the wine back and pulled out chilled water instead, surveying the contents of the fridge for some dinner inspiration. When was the last time she’d eaten anything remotely healthy? Lunch today had been half a packet of chips and her normal dinner for the last few weeks had been toast and a bottle of wine. Things had to change.
The fridge was disappointingly bare. What with Willow away and Sarah working so much, no one had done any shopping. Mia missed the days when Ana lived here and they’d take care of each other; taking turns to cook dinner, sitting around and gossiping about the day. And the dinner parties, with Tom and Johnny.
Mia sighed.
Oh, Johnny. She’d barely even let herself think about him for the last month.
At first she was furious, vowing that she wouldn’t even answer the phone when he called to beg her forgiveness. But he never called, and soon the anger gave way to a sad realisation that it was over. Before it had even begun. At least she hadn’t properly fallen in love with him or anything silly like that.
But the past was the past and now was not the time to dwell on it. Not when she had a cracking hangover and an empty stomach. She heaved her body off the kitchen chair and flung open cupboards, looking for anything that could be used to concoct some kind of nutritious meal.
She put water on the boil, rinsing some red lentils and cooking them quickly so they were still firm. She added a few spoons of capers (they never went off did they?) and some slightly floury dried cranberries, smothering the whole lot in a rich, spice-infused dressing.
She was about to put a spoonful in her mouth, when her phone rang. It was English John. There was a lot of background noise. He was at the pub. Again. She felt a wave of irrational anger towards him. It was his fault that she had become the way she was.
“I’m at the pub,” he shouted over the noise.
No shit, thought Mia.
“Come down!”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“I’m… I’m too hungover,” she said. That was a far easier explanation than I’m reassessing my whole life and I’m not sure that the pub fits into my plan.
His reply was drowned out by a loud cheer.
“What?” shouted Mia into the phone. “I cant’ hear.”
“I’ll come over then,” he shouted back.
“No, I don’t want…”
He had hung up before she could respond.
***
“Oh, you poor thing,” John cooed as Mia opened the door to him. He pulled her into a hug, slipping his hand under her jumper and feeling the smooth skin of her back.
“Ugh, you stink like beer,” Mia said pushing him away.
John frowned. Since when did Mia care about that? He followed her into the lounge and plonked on the couch next to her.
“I bought you wine and chocolate” he said, holding up a bag. “Thought they might clear that hangover?”
“I don’t want any bloody wine or chocolate,” Mia said through clenched teeth.
He held up his hands in defeat. “Was only trying to help.”
“Well, you’re not helping.”
“What is wrong with you tonight?” he said. “You seem really cranky.”
“Maybe I’ve just had enough,” Mia snapped.
“Enough of what?”
“Of this!”
John looked hurt, but not surprised. “Of me, you mean.”
Mia didn’t reply and picked at a loose thread on the couch.
“I came to Melbourne for you,” he said.
“I never asked you to.”
“No, but… I thought that you were starting to really like me,” he said. “I mean, we’ve had fun, haven’t we?”
“Yes.” She sighed. “I do like you John, it’s just…” she trailed off. How to explain?
“There’s someone else, isn’t there.” It wasn’t a question.
Mia shook her head quickly. “Of course there isn’t.”
John uttered a small laugh. “I kept telling myself that you didn’t like him, but you do, don’t you?”
Mia’s stomach flipped, the lentils suddenly not feeling so great. “Who?”
“That other guy,” he said. “Johnny.” He spat out the name.
“Don’t be ridiculous!” Mia exclaimed, putting her hand on John’s arm.
He shook her off. “You know Mia, it’s one thing to string me along if you’re trying to figure out your feelings when you know I’m in love with you, but it’s another thing entirely when you’re in love with someone else.
“No, you’re wrong, I’m not…”
He held up his hand. “The only reason you’re with me is because you don’t have him. That is just…” he shook his head sadly. “That is just cruel and cowardly.”
“No, that’s not…”
But he wasn’t having a bar of it. “I thought you were better than that. Goodbye Mia.”
He got up and left, pulling the front door closed behind him.
Then, quite suddenly, the realisation hit her. John was right.
She was still in love with Johnny. Completely head-over-heals, bonkers, crazy in love with him.
Shit.